The Wind Singer

by William Nicholson

  The Examiner was now ready for Pinpin. He approached the desk, his eyes on his papers.

  ‘Pinto Hath,’ he said. And then raising his eyes, his face took on an all-embracing smile. Pinpin met this look with instinctive suspicion.

  ‘And what are we to call you, my little fellow?’

  ‘By her name,’ said Mrs Hath.

  ‘Well then, Pinto,’ said the Examiner, still beaming. ‘I’ve got some pretty pictures here. Let’s see if you can tell me what they are.’

  He presented Pinpin with a sheet of coloured images. Pinpin looked, but said nothing. The Examiner pointed with his finger to a dog.

  ‘What’s this?’

  Not a sound from Pinpin.

  ‘What’s this, then?’

  Silence.

  ‘Does he have a hearing problem?’

  ‘No,’ said Mrs Hath. ‘She can hear you.’

  ‘But he doesn’t speak.’

  ‘I suppose there’s nothing much she wants to say.’

  Bowman and Kestrel held their breath. The Examiner frowned and looked grave, and made a note on his papers. Then he returned to the pictures.

  ‘Well now, Pinto. Show me a doggy. Where’s a doggy?’

  Pinpin gazed back at him, and neither spoke nor pointed.

  ‘A house, then. Show me a little house.’

  Nothing. And so it went on, until at last the Examiner put his pictures away, looking graver still.

  ‘Let’s try some counting, shall we, little chap?’

  He started counting, meaning Pinpin to follow him, but all she would do was stare. He made another note.

  ‘The last part of the test,’ he said to Mrs Hath, ‘is designed to assess the child’s level of communication skills. Listening, understanding, and responding. We find the child is usually more at his ease when held in the arms.’

  ‘You want her in your arms?’

  ‘If you have no objection.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I have done this before, Mrs Hath. The little fellow will be quite safe with me.’

  Ira Hath looked down at the ground, and her nose twitched just a little. Bowman saw this, and sent an instant thought to Kestrel.

  Mama’s going to crack.

  But all she did was lift Pinpin from her seat and give her into the Examiner’s waiting arms. Bowman and Kestrel watched with keen interest. Their father sat with his eyes closed, knowing it was all going as wrong as it possibly could, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  ‘Well, Pinto, you’re a fine fellow, aren’t you?’ The Examiner tickled Pinpin under the chin, and pressed her nose. ‘What’s this, then? Is this your nosey?’

  Pinpin remained silent. The Examiner pulled out the large gold medal which hung round his neck on a chain, and dangled it in front of Pinpin’s eyes. It shone in the morning light.

  ‘Pretty, pretty. Do you want to hold it?’

  Pinpin said nothing. The Examiner looked up at Mrs Hath in exasperation.

  ‘I’m not sure you realise,’ he said. ‘As matters stand at this moment, I shall have to give your child a zero rating.’

  ‘Is it as bad as that?’ said Mrs Hath, her eyes glittering.

  ‘I can get nothing out of him, you see.’

  ‘Nothing at all?’

  ‘Is there some rhyme or word game he likes to play?’

  ‘Let me think.’ Mrs Hath proceeded, rather ostentatiously, to mime the act of thinking, lips pursed, finger stroking brow.

  Bowman sent a thought to Kestrel.

  She’s cracking.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mrs Hath. ‘There is a game she likes to play. Try saying to her, wiss wiss wiss.’

  ‘Wiss wiss wiss?’

  ‘She’ll like that.’

  Bowman and Kestrel sent the same thought at the same time.

  She’s cracked!

  ‘Wiss wiss wiss,’ said the Examiner to Pinpin. ‘Wiss wiss wiss, little fellow.’

  Pinpin looked at the Examiner in surprise, and wriggled a little in his arms, as if to settle herself more comfortably. Mrs Hath watched, her nose now twitching uncontrollably. Bowman and Kestrel watched, their hearts thumping.

  Any minute now, they thought to each other.

  ‘Wiss wiss wiss,’ said the Examiner.

  ‘Any minute now,’ said Mrs Hath.

  Now, Pinpin, now, willed Bowman and Kestrel. Do it now.

  Mr Hath opened his eyes and saw the looks on their faces. Suddenly realising what was going on, he rose from the bench and reached out his arms.

  ‘Let me take her – ’

  Too late.

  Hubba hubba Pinpin! exulted Bo and Kess in the joyous silence of their thoughts. Hubba hubba hubba Pinpin!

  A faraway look of contentment on her round face, Pinpin was emptying her bladder in a long and steady stream down the Examiner’s arms. The Examiner felt the spread of the gentle warmth without at first understanding what was happening. Then seeing the look of rapt attention on the faces of Mrs Hath and her children, he dropped his gaze downward. The stain was seeping into his scarlet cloak. In utter silence, he held Pinpin out for Mr Hath to take, and turned and walked gravely back up the aisle.

  Mrs Hath took Pinpin from her husband, and smothered her with kisses. Bowman and Kestrel dropped to the floor and rolled about there, quaking with silent laughter. Hanno Hath watched the Examiner report the incident to Maslo Inch, and he gave a small private sigh. He knew what his wife and children did not, which was that they had needed a good rating this morning. Now, with no points at all, they would probably have to leave their house in Orange District and make do in humbler quarters. Two rooms if they were lucky; more likely one room, with the use of a kitchen and bathroom on a communal landing. Hanno Hath was not a vain man. He cared very little what others thought of him. But he loved his family dearly, and the thought of failing them hurt him deep inside.

  Ira Hath cuddled Pinpin tight and refused to think about the future.

  ‘Wiss wiss wiss,’ murmured Pinpin happily.

  2

  Kestrel makes a horrible friend

  On getting to school, Bowman and Kestrel found they had forgotten to bring their homework.

  ‘Forgot?’ roared Dr Batch. ‘You forgot?’

  The twins stood side by side at the front of the long classroom, facing their teacher. Dr Batch smoothed his hands over his substantial stomach, and ran the tip of his tongue over his substantial lips, and proceeded to make an example of them. Dr Batch liked making an example of his pupils. He considered it part of his job as a teacher.

  ‘Let’s begin at the beginning. Why did you forget?’

  ‘Our little sister had her first test this morning,’ said Bowman. ‘We left the house early, and we just forgot.’

  ‘You just forgot? Well, well, well.’

  Dr Batch liked lame excuses.

  ‘Hands up,’ he said to the class, ‘hands up who else attended an infant test this morning.’

  A dozen hands went up among the serried ranks of desks, including the hand of Rufy Blesh.

  ‘And hands up who else forgot their homework.’

  All the hands went down again. Dr Batch turned to Bowman, his eyes popping out with friendly attention.

  ‘It seems you are the only ones.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Throughout this proceeding, Kestrel remained silent. But Bowman could hear the seething of her angry thoughts, and knew she was in one of her wild moods. Dr Batch, unaware of this, began to waddle up and down in front of them, conducting a ritual exchange with the class.

  ‘Class! What happens if you don’t work?’

  Back came the familiar response from fifty-one young mouths.

  ‘No work, no progress.’

  ‘And what happens if you make no progress?’

  ‘No progress, no points.’

  ‘And what happens if you get no points?’

  ‘No points ends up last.’

  ‘Last.’ Dr Batch relished the word. ‘Last
! La-a-ast!’

  The whole class shivered. Last! Like Mumpo, the stupidest boy in the school. Some eyes turned furtively to look at him, as he sat glowering and shivering right at the back, in the seat of shame. Mad Mumpo, whose upper lip was always shiny with nose-dribble, because he had no mother to tell him to wipe it. Smelly Mumpo, who stank so badly that no one would ever go near him, because he had no father to tell him to wash.

  Dr Batch waddled over to the class ratings board, on which every pupil’s name was written in class order. Every day, at the end of the day, the new points were calculated, and the new class order written up.

  ‘I shall deduct five points each,’ said Dr Batch. And there and then, he recalculated the class order. Bowman and Kestrel dropped two places, to twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth respectively, while the class watched.

  ‘Slipping, slipping, slipping,’ said Dr Batch as he made the changes. ‘What do we do when we find ourselves slipping down?’

  The class chanted the response.

  ‘We strive harder, and reach higher, to make tomorrow better than today.’

  ‘Harder. Higher. Better.’ He turned back to Bowman and Kestrel. ‘You will not, I trust, forget your homework again. Take up your places.’

  As they walked back down the rows of desks, Bowman could feel Kestrel seething with hatred, for Dr Batch, and the big ratings board, and the school, and all Aramanth.

  It doesn’t matter, he thought to her. We’ll catch up.

  I don’t want to, she replied. I don’t care.

  Bowman came to a stop at the desk where they were now to sit, two places behind their old desks. But Kestrel went on, all the way to the back, where Mumpo sat. Beside Mumpo there was an empty place, because he was always bottom of the class. Here Kestrel sat down.

  Dr Batch stared in astonishment. So did Mumpo.

  ‘Hallo-o,’ he said, breathing his stinky breath all over her.

  Kestrel turned away, covering her face.

  ‘Do you like me?’ said Mumpo, leaning closer.

  ‘Get away from me,’ said Kestrel. ‘You stink.’

  Dr Batch called sharply from the other end of the room.

  ‘Kestrel Hath! Go to your correct place at once!’

  ‘No,’ said Kestrel.

  The whole class froze.

  ‘No?’ said Dr Batch. ‘Did you say no?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kestrel.

  ‘Do you wish me to deduct five more points for disobedience?’

  ‘You can if you want,’ said Kestrel. ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘You don’t care?’ Dr Batch went a bright red. ‘Then I shall teach you to care. You’ll do as you’re told, or – ’

  ‘Or what?’ said Kestrel.

  Dr Batch stared back, lost for words.

  ‘I’m already at the bottom of the class,’ said Kestrel. ‘What more can you do to me?’

  For a moment longer, Dr Batch struggled with himself in silence, searching for the best way to respond. During this moment, in which the whole class held its breath, Mumpo shuffled closer still to Kestrel, and Kestrel twisted further away from him, screwing up her face in disgust. Dr Batch saw this, and the look of bewilderment on his face was replaced by a vindictive smile. He set off at a slow pace down the room.

  ‘Class,’ he said, his voice smoothly under control once more. ‘Class, turn and look at Kestrel Hath.’

  All eyes turned.

  ‘Kestrel has found a new friend. As you see, Kestrel’s new friend is our very own Mumpo. Kestrel and Mumpo, side by side. What do you think of your new friend, Mumpo?’

  Mumpo nodded and smiled. ‘I like Kess,’ he said.

  ‘He likes you, Kestrel,’ said Dr Batch. ‘Why don’t you sit closer? You could put your arm round him. You could hug him. He’s your new friend. Who knows, maybe in later years you’ll marry each other, and you can be Mrs Mumpo, and have lots of little Mumpo babies. Would you like that? Three or four little Mumpo babies to wash and wipe?’

  The class tittered at that. Dr Batch was pleased. He felt he had regained the upper hand. Kestrel sat stiff as a rod and burned with shame and anger, and said nothing.

  ‘But perhaps I’m making a mistake. Perhaps Kestrel is making a mistake. Perhaps she simply sat down in the wrong seat, by mistake.’

  He was close to Kestrel now, standing gazing at her in silence. Kestrel knew that he was offering her a deal: her obedience in exchange for her pride.

  ‘Perhaps Kestrel is going to get up, and go back to her correct place.’

  Kestrel trembled, but she didn’t move. Dr Batch waited a moment longer, then hissed at her:

  ‘Well, well. Kestrel and Mumpo.What a sweet couple.’

  All that morning, he kept up the attack. In the grammar lesson, he wrote up on the board:

  NAME THE TENSES

  Kestrel loves Mumpo

  Kestrel is loved by Mumpo

  Kestrel will love Mumpo

  Kestrel has loved Mumpo

  Kestrel shall have loved Mumpo

  In the arithmetic lesson, he wrote on the board:

  If Kestrel gives Mumpo 392 kisses and

  98 hugs, and half the hugs are

  accompanied by kisses, and one-eighth

  of the kisses are slobbery, how many

  slobbery kisses with hugs could

  Kestrel give Mumpo?

  And so it went on, and the class snickered away, as Dr Batch intended. Bowman looked back at Kestrel many times, but she just sat there, doing her work, not saying a word.

  When time came for the lunch-break, he joined her as she walked quietly out of the room. To his annoyance, he found the dribbling Mumpo was coming with Kestrel, sticking close to her side.

  ‘Get lost, Mumpo,’ said Kestrel.

  But Mumpo wouldn’t get lost. He simply trotted along beside Kestrel, his eyes never leaving her face. From time to time, unprompted, he would murmur, ‘I like Kess’, and then wipe his nose-dribble on to his shirt sleeve.

  Kestrel was heading for the way out.

  ‘Where are you going, Kess?’

  ‘Out,’ said Kestrel. ‘I hate school.’

  ‘Yes, but Kess – ’ Bowman didn’t know what to say. Of course she hated school. Everyone hated school. But you had to go.

  ‘What about the family rating?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Kestrel. And walking faster now, she began to cry. Mumpo saw this, and was devastated. He skipped around her, reaching out his grubby hands to paw her, and uttered small cries designed to give her comfort.

  ‘Don’t cry, Kess. I’ll be your friend, Kess. Don’t cry.’

  Kestrel brushed him away angrily.

  ‘Get lost, Mumpo. You stink.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ said Mumpo humbly.

  ‘Kess,’ said Bowman, ‘come back to school, sit in your proper place, and Batch will leave you alone.’

  ‘I’m never going back,’ said Kestrel.

  ‘But you must.’

  ‘I’m going to tell pa. He’ll understand.’

  ‘And I will,’ said Mumpo.

  ‘Go away, Mumpo!’ shouted Kestrel, right in his face. ‘Go away or I’ll bash you!’

  She raised a threatening fist. Mumpo dropped whimpering to his knees.

  ‘Hurt me if you want. I don’t mind.’

  Kestrel’s fist remained suspended in mid-air. She stared at Mumpo. Bowman too was watching Mumpo. Suddenly he was caught unawares by the feeling of what it was like to be Mumpo. A dull cold terror rolled over him, and a penetrating loneliness. He almost cried out loud, so intense was the hunger for kindness.

  ‘She doesn’t mean it,’ he said. ‘She won’t hit you.’

  ‘She can if she wants.’

  His face gazed adoringly up at her, his eyes now as shiny as his upper lip.

  ‘Tell him you won’t hit him, Kess.’

  ‘I won’t hit you,’ said Kestrel, dropping her fist. ‘You’re too stinky to touch.’

  She turned and walked fast down the street, Bowman at
her side. Mumpo followed a few paces behind. So that he wouldn’t hear, Kestrel talked to Bowman in her head.

  I can’t go on like this, I can’t.

  What else can we do?

  I don’t know, she said. Something. Something soon, or I’ll explode.

  3

  Bad words said loud

  As she left Orange District with Bowman and Mumpo following her, Kestrel had no plan in her head, other than to get away from the hated school: but in fact she was making her way down one of the city’s four main streets to the central arena, where the wind singer stood.

  The city of Aramanth was built in the shape of a circle, a drum even, since it was enclosed by high walls, raised long ago to protect the people from the warrior tribes of the plains. No one had dared attack mighty Aramanth for many generations now, but the great walls remained, and few people ventured out of the city. What was there in the world beyond that anybody could possibly want? Only the rock-strewn seashore to the south, where the great grey ocean thundered and rolled; and the barren desert wastes to the north, stretching all the way to the distant mountains. No food out there; no comfort, no safety. Whereas within the walls there was all that was necessary for life, more, for a good life. Every citizen of Aramanth knew how fortunate they were, to live in this rare haven of peace, plenty, and equal opportunity for all.

  The city was arranged in its districts in concentric rings. The outermost ring, in the shadow of the walls, was formed by the great cube-shaped apartment blocks of Grey District. Next came the low-rise apartments that made up Maroon District, and the crescents of small terraced houses of Orange District, where the Hath family lived. Nearest the central sector of the city lay the broad ring of Scarlet District, a region of roomy detached houses, each with its own garden, laid out in a pleasing maze of twisting lanes, so that each house felt special and different, though of course all were painted red. And finally and most gloriously, at the heart of the city, there was White District. Here was the Imperial Palace, where the Emperor, Creoth the Sixth, the father of Aramanth, looked out over his citizen-children. Here were the great houses of the city leaders, built in marble or polished limestone, beautiful and austere. Here was the huge pillared Hall of Achievement, where the family ratings were displayed; and facing it, across the plaza where the statue of Emperor Creoth the First stood, the many-windowed College of Examiners, home of the Board of Examiners, the supreme governing body of Aramanth.